


Mom fic

by Mejasoulfruit



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beck is a friend and a boy and a half-orc being raised by two chaotic halfing parents, Comfort/Angst, F/F, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love, No Lesbians Die, OCs - Freeform, Short One Shot, Trans, Useless Lesbians, based off d&d kind of, chosen family, feel free to ask me questions about the universe lmao i love to talk, im kind of just putting tags because i want attention, lgbtq+, moms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mejasoulfruit/pseuds/Mejasoulfruit
Summary: this universe was partially inspired by d&d and dragon age dfsdf it's kind of obviousThis is a fanfic i wrote about my friend and i's two gay moms about some angst we joked about but may one day commit to the bit bc we keep doing that like the gremlins we aredon't worry, we have time to decide because at the moment of publication we are still in Scene 2 of Act 1 of this roleplay!! (god help us)
Kudos: 4





	Mom fic

**Author's Note:**

> Ash is not my character!! 
> 
> all the other ones, of course, are  
> because i'm a monster

Elwin stood patiently at the front counter of the restaurant nestled off the hip of The Gilded Rose Inn. The roof hung twenty feet over her head and was supported by marble columns carved with thousands of life-sized flowers blooming from between the golden spiral that went up the entire body of each column. The massive, arched roof was painted, fittingly, with the colors of the sky and the spring. She felt… Almost nervous as she stood in this palace of an Inn dressed simply in a green tunic while all around her rich people lounged in much more eye-catching clothing.

The Queen had reserved her guard places in the finest inns all the way to the Wastelands. It was safe to say this was the second fanciest place Elwin had ever been in. The intricate gilded marble columns supporting the arching roof of the restaurant only really bested by the near eighty floors of gardens and township of the Icarus tower. Somehow, she felt like she belonged here less than she did in the Icarus Tower. Maybe it was the eyes of lounging strangers who had almost as much lethal power as the late Bishop King having been denied rooms for the week in order to make room for a division of Verelden soldiers and their unfortunate indebted add-ons. 

A more civil stranger set down a white saucer in front of Elwin. Soon, a cup was set on the saucer. Elwin thanked them politely and they nodded with a smile. The only reason Elwin didn’t consider them polite was because Elwin was flatly asked to pay upfront even though she was served after a man who only paid after he already tasted everything and made comments which got cheery responses. The othering wasn’t subtle, especially not to her. 

It was simply milk warmed on the stove with a few drops of vanilla extract. Elwin wasn’t sure of the story behind the drink. She knew it had a lot to do with Ash’s childhood and the church she grew up in, but Elwin never heard a story including the drink that stood out. The elf at the counter gave her an odd look when she asked for it specifically, but obliged silently for a soldier sent from Vereldane. History made it so that Elwin would be nervous about tampering after a glance like that. But, Elwin was sure that in a place like this, they didn’t even have the materials to botch the quality.

Elwin took the saucer carefully and left the restaurant. The foyer of the Inn itself was only less grand. The roof was still high to ensure the comfort and good impression of all guests, and expensive-looking paintings lined the walls and in the gaps between them stood statues likely just as expensive. But, there was no carved columns or painted ceilings. Grandiose, but not too grandiose, It only made her feel less tense. 

Aldous had been allotted the corner by the innkeeper behind the desk. He played the lute for tips and seemed to be doing well here. They caught each other’s eyes and both gave a warm smile. Aldous shifted gently up the cords of his lute and the atmosphere changed with it. Elwin felt a wave of calm softly wash over her. Her smile faded into a deep sense of appreciation and love for the bard. Aldous gave her a nod of confidence and turned back towards the door. Elwin turned and went up the stairs.

The service here was excellent, but overbearing. Ash had turned away two attempts at housekeeping and room service in the last hour. She just _wanted_... to be alone. The idea of a stranger simply drifting in and seeing her like this, dressed still in her nightgown and completely undone, only made her condition worse. She remained sitting against the headboard. It was large, and made of Rosewood. It dwarfed her as she curled up against it like some child and not a forty year old woman with a list of names that could measure the Icarus tower and was responsible for the upcoming restoration of the Wastelands.

There was a soft knock at the door. It wasn’t the firm, respectful knock of one of the dozens of maids that buzzed through the building like busy little bees up and down the hall as they looked for work. It was small, and knowing.   
Ash played oblivious as she stared, spiritless, out the grand window that looked down onto the Torinil city of Avalin three floors below. “I do not want any service right now.” It was beautiful, with many tall and elegantly muted buildings. 

“It’s me.” Her voice had always been deep and it kept one foot on the almost raspy side and seemed to be edging further into that spot as she aged. It was homely. After nearly two years, every word called out to Ash like she was home. 

Ash said nothing. She _wanted_ to be alone. She could not bring herself to say so in the fear that the words would utter it into existence. 

The door opened slowly and Ash turned to Elwin as she stepped in. Elwin smiled tenderly. She stood at the door way with the plate in her hands. Ash glanced at it and then to her. Then, she avoided eye contact all together and turned away. 

Elwin crossed the room quietly. She sat down on the bed, her heart almost stopping as she sat down too heavily and almost spilled milk on sheets that, if ruined, would likely put her into more debt than she originally had before this all began. Elwin held the mug out to Ash. Ash took it reluctantly and Elwin leaned over to set the saucer aside. A bracelet was strewn messily across the nightstand. Elwin picked it up and stared down at it in her hands. 

Ash did not look at her. She sat pressed against the headboard staring out into the distance. Elwin watched her quietly, her eyes slowly taking in her whole form like they had many times before. Her long curls had tightened, no longer held down by dozens of inches of extra length. Now, Ash’s hair was a short, black cloud around her head. It had greatly changed the shape her silhouette in the sunlight and Elwin still wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

“You look beautiful,” Elwin whispered shyly and meant it so, so dearly. 

“That isn’t the point, Elwin,” Ash murmured from behind her mug, her back still to Elwin. 

Elwin looked down. She knew that. There was a heavy pause. Elwin realized she wasn’t used to Ash actually saying her name.

“I wish you didn’t have to see me like this,” Ash croaked painfully. She wiped her eyes and her sleeve slid down. Elwin also realized that was almost completely unused to seeing Ash’s wrists so bare. She absent-mindedly locked and unlocked bracelet together thinking about it. 

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen you in less,” Elwin gently teased. She hoped to relieve the tension, but Ash’s head dropped and she leaned over to set down her mug. Elwin’s heart sank and she bit her lip.”I’m sorry, that was vulgar and inappropriate,” She admitted apologetically. 

The pause was shorter, but it was painful and suffocating. 

Ash took a deep, shaky breath and spoke out to Avalin. “Elwin Rolfe, an elf’s hair is their _virtue._ It is a symbol of our fortune, and our longevity, and our _happiness!_ So, I-I’m sorry if I don’t care how attractive you find me like _this!_ ” Her words were quick. They tipped out of her lips in a poignant stumble. 

Elwin’s throat tightened. She looked away at the floor and nodded as if Ash would see it. “I--” She started.

Ash cut her off. Whether it was intentional, or if she simply didn’t hear Elwin speak was uncertain. “This is-- This is _shameful!_ I would have rather lost my titles and wealth than my hair. I have been nothing but outcast from my people since I was born And now, this. Black, short hair. Rheros, how fucking awful,” Ash grumbled bitterly. She punctuated her statement with a sharp sniffle and wiped her eyes. 

Elwin didn’t often hear Ash swear. Sometimes it had been houmous. Little damns, shits and fucks sprinkled into otherwise prim and well groomed sentences. But, now it was just uncomfortable. Her heart broke for Ash and she tried her hardest to remedy the situation. “But who _cares_ ?” Elwin felt regret immediately and was quickly shown the affects of her own _shitty_ word choice. 

Ash whipped around, finally facing Elwin, “ _I CARE_!” She shrieked, her voice cracking pitifully under the weight of her misery. Elwin jolted back, her weak little heart almost stopping. Ash’s hands rose to her mouth and she leaned away from Elwin. She turned to the wall in front of them and said nothing, just quickly wiped tears away with the balls of her hands as they streamed down her cheeks. 

It hurt, badly, to see her like this. “No, no-- That came out wrong. I’m so sorry, Ash.” 

“Damnit, Elwin. This is the tradition of my people we are talking about,” Ash rasped weakly.

Elwin knew she was on tempting the fates now. That she was being downright imprudent now and continuously exacerbating the situation. Elwin had never been good with people. This was by far the worst case of her social gracelessness. But, she desperately wanted to fix this. She opened her mouth, and Ash looked away. She likely would’ve told Elwin to just be silent, but Elwin suspected she couldn’t find the voice to.

“I-I know,” Elwin started. She paused, trying to find the words. Ash reached over and picked up her mug. “But, that’s just...history. History doesn’t... Change! It can’t, it’s the past, it’s too static...” Ash was giving her a tired, almost uninterested look now. Elwin swallowed hard and almost forgot her point. Saints, did she even have a point?

“Tradition doesn’t take into account special cases,” Elwin breathed in softly. She believed she had found her point. “Traditionally, I would absolutely have had no right to take Moriah. But, the head of my religion locked me away from her in a basement for thirteen years and continuously tried to find an excuse to execute me throughout that time. Really, simply packing up my daughter and moving off shore was hardly anything compared to the amount of times King tried to kill me. But hey, who’s keeping score?” Elwin chuckled weakly. The joke was small and empty and disappeared into the air between them.

Elwin scooted up beside Ash. The half-elf avoided looking at her and stared back into the wall. Elwin was worried she was continuing in the wrong direction, but continue she did.“What I’m saying, Ash, is that our traditions and our cultures, th-they raise us, but they can’t… be left to define us,” Elwin told Ash vaguely, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. 

Ash allowed herself to be guided onto Elwin’s shoulder and silently sipped her milk. If she looked now, she knew she would be able to see how hard Elwin’s mind was working behind those dark brown eyes. Ash struggled to give her the sentiment of fully listening because she knew the soldier was genuinely trying. Ash stared down into her warm vanilla milk and tried not to succumb to the burning in the back of her throat. It just… Hurt, to listen.

“For the first few dozen years of my life, I actually hoped I was going to grow up to become a farmer and a father of a handful of children the edge of Wyrmwaters,” Elwin chuckled sheepishly, a red tinge coming to her cheeks as she remembered this wish from a _long_ bygone era. “Then… I thought I was going to eventually become this famous folk hero who traversed the countryside, the champion of her people,” and Elwin’s bashful smile faded.

Ash glanced to her and let her mug settle in her lap. Elwin’s hand gently laid onto Ash’s own and she allowed it with silence.

“And then, I thought I was going to… Be alone, in a basement… For the rest of my life. Now, Ash, I have you, and Aldous, and Phillippa, and everyone. I have a home with _Moriah_ back in Grandspire now.” Elwin said. Pride and joy was subtle in her tone, muted for the delicacy of what she wanted to say.

Elwin took a breath, “Life... changes in ways we don’t expect.” Elwin told Ash, their eyes finally meeting, “Sometimes that’s bad.”

At her desk, her Excellency Abigail Swale fixed her bioficals. Her ink pen tapped against the edge of her desk, a reading habit she would keep for the rest of her life and would soon enough leave gentle indentations in the dark wood. A photo of Anish, no older than twelve, sat in its frame on the corner of her desk. Just outside the window, there was a well decorated memorial to him in the cemetery where dozens of vibrant flowers had been laid. He was much older in those photos, but still younger than he would be today. 

Abby knew she should be quelled by the sentiments given to her of how nobly Anish had served. How loyal he had been to Grandspire, and The Church, and Vivan, and his saints. That, even with the bleak ethicality of what had happened, he had died an honorable death. But, it just didn’t. Grief rose from her stomach to the back of her throat. Abby took the glasses from her face and set them aside. She buried her face in her hands and wept. Today was Anish’s birthday. 

Barbour laid curled into a blanket on the sofa, snoring softly. He was small and almost lost amongst the rosey pink knitting. Bear pulled herself up onto the sofa and peeked into its seats to inspect the noise. She gawked at him blankly, her mouth half agape as she watched him sleep. Neither of them were older than ten months old and were still quite fittingly witless. Briar and Barynn often joked about how they had cursed their children with their own blasted intelligences. 

Bear turned her head and peered into the kitchen. She watched Briar, her father, stand on a stool. She focused on the soft clack of his knife against the cutting board as he cut vegetables and potatoes. Bear pushed herself back from the couch and wobbled unsteadily. Instinctively, she gripped onto the cloth laid across the coffee table to balance herself. She leaned forward. On the table,a glass tipped over noisily and began to roll as she pulled the cloth under it with her. 

  
On their porch, a halfling couple sat in their rocking chairs. Faen sat still with his legs crossed as he read a book with a red and well-worn cover. Dolly rocked, ankles crossed and knitting another blanket for her grand-neblings. Dolly’s knitting needles clicked together on occasion and every once and then, Faen would turn page. The birds twittered in the young tree they kept in their front yard. All was calm and simple.

Then, Faen closed his book and slowly set it down in his lap. He fixed his glasses and gave Dolly a confused look. He sniffed the air and Dolly set down her knitting. There was a moment of confused silence that was broken when Selene suddenly threw open the windows, startling the couple. A puff of smoke escaped the kitchen and Tilly rushed to throw out the burning contents of a pan into a small shrub under the window. 

The four of them looked at each other in shock as smoke drifted out from both the house and Faen’s hydrangeas. Beck elbowed his way into the window as well. His hair was pulled and combed up into a small, black tuft at the back of his head for once. He stared down at the plant and then gave his parents a small, sheepish smile. 

  
Elwin ran her thumb over Ash’s hand, “And sometimes it’s good.”

Abby quickly looked up. She wiped her eyes and furrowed her brow. From behind the doors, someone was singing, and it was getting closer. Abby quickly wiped her face and replaced her bifocals. She took a deep breath and readied for a knock on the door. 

But, there was no knock.

Two teenagers sauntered without a warning or care. They sung loudly a generations old song of celebration. Moriah carried a small tray of sweets and pastries, their presence immediately filling the room with the rich, merry scent of apple, cinnamon, and fresh bread. 

Moriah and DeMonte both playfully danced and swayed as they crossed the room, neither noticing the sorrowful redness of Abby’s eyes. If they did, they at least didn’t acknowledge it. They came around the desk. DeMonte set down a pretty, blue mug of chamomile tea sweetened with honey and lemon in front of Abby and Moriah set the tray down after him. Both continued to sing with an _exuberance_ as they came around _._

Abby couldn’t help but laugh. Moriah and DeMonte both took a turn to lovingly kiss their former matron’s forehead. Abby reached up and wrapped her arms around their shoulders and pulled them into a hug. Every year, Abby couldn’t help but drown out every thought and memory of her _own_ birthday with Anish’s. Every year, her darlings reminded her of it in whatever way they could. Flowers, song, pastries or teas. They were more faithful to it than Abby had ever known anyone else to be. Oh, Abby asked herself once again, how could she forget her own birthday?

She looked up and smiled brightly. In the doorway stood a boy who looked just as battered and broken as the day she met him. He had been silent, not being the vocally inclined sibling by far, but he was beaming and Abby rarely got the chance to see him smile. She beckoned Aldrich over quickly and told them all to pull up a chair at the desk. As Moriah and DeMonte went to the far side of the room to pull up chairs, Aldrich came up and furrowed his brow. He commented about how it looked like she’d been crying. She shushed him light-heartedly and just told him to get a chair because she wanted the company right now.

Briar did not hesitate to step down from his stool as he heard the glass fall. He quickly jogged out of the kitchen to see what his children were about to break and spotted Bear, simply standing there with the tablecloth clenched tightly in her fist. Briar rushed over with an urgency to save everything he had foolishly set on this tuggable fabric he had foolishly laid on a table in toddler reach. 

Bear smiled and babbled excitedly as her father approached. She let go of the cloth and reached for him, taking her first few shaky steps towards him. Briar halted and blinked with astonishment. Then, he lurched forward and took Bear up in his arms. He laughed and spun, his little girl squealing with laughter with him. The glass rolled off the table and landed dully onto the rug. Briar quickly set Bear down before his arm gave out. He knelt down and kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. His heart was filled with so much excitement and pride. Oh, Vivan, how he couldn’t wait to tell Barryn when he got home. _Her first steps!_

A stiff moment passed between all five of them. Then, laughter. Dolly was the first to laugh, then it just erupted from all of them. Tilly was the first to admit that that was _absolutely_ her fault and that maybe this cooking thing was better left to Selene and Beck. Selene wrapped a large arm around both her partners and pulled them against her chest. She pressed her muzzle to the top of Tilly’s head and teased her sweetly.

Faen got up to inspect the hydrangeas and assured everyone they’d be fine. Afterall, they came back from the last fire didn’t they? They all just laughed again. There was no anger here. No remorse for a hardy plant and a hard-to-wash pan. Just, accepted embarrassment, gentle teasing, and love, love, love, love, _love_.

“Sometimes, _wonderfully_ good,” The soldier breathed in a hush as she squeezed her lover’s hand. This was something that, if promised to her a few years ago, would only feel like a cruel joke. Over a decade spent in darkness that came to an end with such a remarkably uncanny way. No, she wouldn’t have believed anyone who told her that one day she’d find love with a woman so beautiful, and talented, and _incredible,_ that she struggled to put it into words how much she loved her in even the most dire of moments. 

“But, it’s always unexpected,” Elwin said with a decided sureness that could only come from decades of experience. “And... It changes _us,_ as well. We can’t rely on tradition to change with us, because it can’t. The best we can do is...Recover, with or without it, and try to move forward,” Elwin told Ash quietly as she slowly fastened the bracelet around Ash’s wrist. She turned it upright and found herself staring down at the sparkling gems in silence. 

  
By the saints, had she said the right thing?

  
Ash let out a shaky sob. Elwin carefully wrapped an arm around her, not sure if this was the right choice either. Ash leaned against her and Elwin felt only slightly more sure of herself. She held Ash closer and let her weep. She felt her own throat tighten. There was no long winded and overly sentimental speech Elwin could give to instantly heal the pain, no matter how much she wanted to. Afterall, tradition and culture _was_ what raised someone, and that could not be simply given up and disregarded in one night without pain and scarring, and, unfortunately, Elwin just happened not to be the magic one. Instead, she held Ash and did not interrupt her for anything except to gently persuade her to drink so that she might calm down between long, heaving sobs. 

That evening was slow, with Ash burying herself further and further into Elwin’s arms as the sun sank lower, and lower into the sky and her mug became less and less full. There wasn’t much conversation. Occasionally, one reminded the other just how much she loved her. There was no laughter here, only tears and some shakey, grief-stricken apologies about what happened both today and the day prior, as if either of those things needed apologies. But, laughter would come back soon, and, for now, they still had kisses to place softly on top of foreheads and each other to huddle against for comfort.

Eventually, the crying stopped, for now. Likely, it’d come and go in waning waves over the course of a few days, and that was fine. It had became dinner time without either particularly noticing. Elwin helped Ash get dressed and together they went downstairs to finally join the others downstairs. It was a somber meal. Conversations were short, but supportive. Much more delicately handled than Elwin had the grace to do herself, so she stayed out of most of them. But, she stayed beside Ash and Ash appreciated that just as fondly. Laughter would be back soon, but for now they simply stayed and allowed for recovery.


End file.
